Buried
by Lady Selenity
Summary: Denny Duquette's other life just rolled into Seattle Grace in the form of two bloody, nearly dead brothers named Winchester. Supernatural Crossover
1. Rolled In

_Buried_

Disclaimer: I do not own _Grey's Anatomy_ or _Supernatural_.

Summary: Denny Duquette's other life just rolled into Seattle Grace in the form of two bloody, nearly dead brothers named Winchester. [Supernatural Crossover]

Notes: Re-writing. Because it sucks. Love me, plot is updating. Expect bi-monthly updates. Yell at me if not.

Timeline_: Grey's Anatomy_: Takes place after Damage Case and **BEFORE **17 Seconds. Denny is 45 years old, and Izzie is 30 (she took a few years off to model).

_ Supernatural_: AU more or less. The guys never found their Dad. So, place Caleb everywhere John has been in the series. Post: AU Devil's Trap. John is 45 years old. Dean is 27

and Sam is 23.

* * *

_"Where were you when everything was falling apart?_

_All my days were spent by a telephone_

_Never rang and all I needed was a phone call" _

_Fray, _You Found Me

* * *

_Rolled In_

Gazing out at the nurses chattering at the front desk, Denny smiled to himself. He had the perfect view of the entire hospital, watching the central entrance with a fire escape nearby, and even a good view. He had asked for it the first time he had come into the hospital, a condition of a multi-million dollar donation he made before being admitted for the first time, and he had kept the room.

_It was a room for a hunter..._

He shook the thought away, reminding himself that he was Denny, not the hunter. Not the man abandoned by his family for his choice of family, for marrying a woman of "poor breeding" as his stuck-up father had put it. No, he had been too fascinated with her long blond locks and bright blue eyes to care what his father said. Even if it meant losing his family, trust fund, and his name.

Mary was worth it – she had been worth it all. Until she died, burning so brightly even though her horrified face was engraved in his mind, telling him to run, get the boys out, save himself.

No cards had been exchanged, no phone calls – until over two years ago, when a stuffy lawyer left him a voicemail, telling him that the entire family fortune was left to him – the only surviving son of the Duquette family, along with his father's apologies. Too late to mean much more than a few words on a sheet of paper by a dying, lonely man.

He put the money in an account, waiting for a better time to use it. To explain it away to everyone.

Two weeks later, his chest began to hurt, and he passed out on a routine salt and burn, scaring ten years off this partner's life. He assured the boy that it was nothing, just a dizzy spell. When his chest began to hurt him a month later, he wasn't so sure.

Checking in under his original name (his real name!), he learned that he had a heart condition – that it was more or less failing.

He never got around to telling his family about the money.

Shaking his head from his thoughts, the heart-wrenching, gut-kicking thoughts, about his family, Denny picked up a magazine hidden beneath a newspaper and gazed at the stones that lay printed on the sheet of paper. His dark hazel eyes tried to find the one that he was searching for. A ring that would be perfect for her. One that he would forever search for until he found the perfect one, not matter the price or time. He had to find the right one.  
_  
Just like before..._

He shook his head to dispel those thoughts almost immediately. This was a new beginning that he had been give almost two years ago. This was a beginning he had to embrace, no matter what lay behind him in the past. Or those he left behind.

_Two boys, old enough to be called men, but never old enough in his eyes_

_...the youngest all arms and legs and the widest grins who argued with every decision he made, worried for his family, to loose what little he had to hold onto in this world…_

_..the eldest who worshiped the ground he walked upon and never questioned him, but stared at him silently, with accusing eyes asking why he had been the one to send the youngest away, to break the family apart...._

"Damnit," he murmured , rubbing his chest in the manner he did nowadays. It wasn't that it hurt, physically at least. The wave of longing agony to see his boys again crashed over him, breaking his already broken heart into pieces. He had done too much, hurt them too much to take it back. It would save them. It had to.

"Denny? Oh God, is your heart hurting again? Nurse-!"

He glanced up, catching her frantic face that nearly bled worry. He tried to wordlessly reassure her, but she wouldn't have it, checking his vitals and charts before bring out her stethoscope to listen to the _thump-skip-thump_ of his heart.

"Izzie," he stated, tugging in her stethoscope, making her look, really look, at him. "I'm fine."

Her face smoothed into quiet happiness. Her blonde hair bouncing as she placed away her stethoscope, and doe-eyes wide with relief _and giggling before tugging on his arm. _

"_Don't you worry me like that Johnny. I swear, I almost had a heart attack." Her blue-grey eyes shining in relief._

He blinked away the memories (and the ghosts), and it was brown eyes, and not blue he was looking at.

_Did you know, dear ghost, that it would be me with the heart trouble? Were you trying to warn me?_

"Denny?" Izzie questioned, squeezing his hand and bringing him back to the world of the living.

"I'm fine," Denny assured her, acting as though he wasn't remembering Mary. It would do no good to bring up what was dead and buried.

Literally.

The doors leading out from the ER and to surgery swung open. Two bloody boys on stretchers rolled past the couple, a sight that Denny had, sadly, gotten far too comfortable with seeing. What made him pause was not the large amounts of blood gushing from the duo. Both looked like they had both been strangled, cut open and then gone through a car wreck. Nor was it Meredith Grey yelling for people to move out of the way as she wielded the first stretcher.

It was the stock of blonde-brown hair and glazed hazel-green eyes staring at him, unseeing and uncomprehending.

It was the gangly brown headed boy, who looked too peaceful to be alive.

_His boys looked up at him, both exchanging looks but unwilling to ask the question he had to know was clawing at their lips, desperate to get out. His eldest finally screwed up his courage and said, "Dad?"_

_It was silent in the room. The boys voice cracking on the name, not from puberty but emotion._

"_Hmm?" he glanced up from the papers before him, maps scattered haphazardly around, and books littering the floor._

_"You'll never leave me and Sammy like Mom has, right Dad?"_

_He looked down and took in the frightened hazel eyes of his two boys, remembering the fire that consumed their house and lives. Watching as the firefighters tried to contain it, and knowing that his wife was burning so brightly that no one could stop her, as she turned to ash and dust and returned to Mother Earth._

_"Never son. You and your brother will always have me. I'll always be there to make sure you won't be hurt."_

Denny Duquette stared open mouthed at the two figures who rolled past him, ignorant to Izzie Stevens, the _thump-skip-thump_ of his heart, and the beeping of his machines. His world stopped – pausing in his life.

And John Winchester roared back to life.

"Izzie, I need you to go and watch those boys for me," he asked – no, ordered. His tone was darker than usual, rough with inhidden emotions, the hunter side.

Izzie stared at Denny in shock, nodding before she even knew it. There was something in that tone that she knew she couldn't disobey; it was to commanding, like from a general to his subordinate. It would be detrimental to her health to not.

"Sure Denny. Do you know them?" She asked, curious of his abrupt change in manner.

Denny stared at the two stretcher wheeling into the elevator, on to surgery. Two boys balancing in between life and death – his boys..

"Not any more."


	2. Phone Calls with the Dead

_Buried_

Disclaimer: I do not own _Grey's Anatomy_ or _Supernatural_.

Summary: Denny Duquette's other life just rolled into Seattle Grace in the form of two bloody, nearly dead brothers named Winchester. [Supernatural Crossover]

Timeline_: Grey's Anatomy_: Takes place after Damage Case and **BEFORE **17 Seconds. Denny is 45 years old, and Izzie is 30 (she took a few years off to model).

_ Supernatural_: AU more or less. The guys never found their Dad. So, place Caleb everywhere John has been in the series. Post: AU Devil's Trap. John is 45 years old. Dean is 27 and Sam is 23.

Notes: Re-writing. Chapter Two is UP! This is what happens when I have no valentine. From now on, bi weekly updates, I'd expect.

* * *

_"Where were you when everything was falling apart?_

_All my days were spent by a telephone_

_Never rang and all I needed was a phone call" _

_Fray, _You Found Me

* * *

**Phone Calls with the Dead**

The next hour of Izzie Steven's life (and internship) was spent tracking down the two boys who had wheeled past Denny's room and shook her faith in knowing exactly who Denny Duquette was. Three favors and one terrible sprint up the stairs to OR1 had left Izzie with 'relative duty' for the third person in what appeared to be a hit and run.

She had been going through his personal effects, ignoring the bloodstains that drenched near everything before finally (_finally!_) finding the wallet. Carefully, the opened the blood stiffened leather, to an ID. Caleb Harrington was the dead man's name and all the way from Kansas.

_I think you and Toto were too far from home Dorthy _she thought, before using a nearby computer in the office to get his records and next of kin information. It took a few phone calls and some haggling with Lawrence General before they would release the number, but when they did, it was the number of a John Winchester.

The name was familiar for her, so Izzie Stevens glanced back at the two kids ID's who were in surgery. One had a totally fake ID (no one named their child Kirk Hammett, Jr. nowadays) and the other had the last name of Winchester. The rest of the ID was destroyed, crushed to bits and covered in things that Izzie didn't want to contemplate.

Dialing the number on the sticky note before her, Izzie waved at Denny. He smiled at her before going back to the newspaper in front of him, circling obituaries and writing notes in the margins. She had once asked him why he did it. He had frowned before placing the newspaper far enough away that her prying eyes couldn't see anything, muttering something about how old habits died hard.

She hadn't pushed Denny. She was too scared too – afraid that she'd be the one to push him over the edge and she'd loose her loving man. But, she had no idea of what he was really like outside the hospital, when he hadn't had a heart condition. Sure, she knew everything there was about his medical case, but she knew nothing of his real life. If he had been married, had kids, oh god – maybe he still had a wife!

The abrupt end of the ringing of the phone reminded Izzie that she was at work, and at work she shouldn't worry about her personal life at work. She needed to work on separating herself from the cases, but those two boys laying on those stretchers were about her age, looking so young and venerable.

The answering machine recording began. "This is John Winchester. I can't help you right now, but if you need help call my son, Dean, at this number –"

She jotted down the number and called again, to make sure she has it right. Glancing up at Denny, who was still engrossed in his newspaper, she couldn't help but compare the gruff tones to the commanding tone earlier. Tinged in desperation as he asked for her to look into those two boys, it was nearly the same.

But many people sounded different on the phone, and it couldn't be him. It wasn't him, because Denny didn't have any kids. He would have told her if he did. He trusted her like that.

But still, Izzie was reminded of how little she knew about him.

Hospital phone in hand, she dialed the second number. It went straight to voicemail, again, but the message was different – a boy begging for help.

"Dad, if you call us, and God, I hope you are, we're in Seattle. Caleb is with us, he disappeared for a while back in April, but we found him, almost dead and bleeding out on a bed. But Dad," the young voice broke. "I don't think it's him. Where are you? Sammy and I, we, damnit Dad, we need you. We need you now. Please Dad, remember your promise?"

The message ended there, and Izzie was left dumbfounded. She turned back to the database, searching for a Dean Winchester in the records, looking for his file. It was, like Caleb's, in Lawrence General. She picked the plastic phone again, dialing for the records center when Bailey caught her.

"Steven's!" she roared, nearly making Izzie fall out of her seat. "I placed you on scut, so why the _hell_ are you at the nurse's using the phone."

Seattle Grace's resident nazi stood with her hands on her hips, glaring down at her young intern. Izzie shrunk into herself, fearful of the legendary anger of the tiniest woman in the hospital. "Um," she fumbled, waiting for the elevator music on the phone to end. "I was stuck with calling Caleb Harrington's next of kin."

Dr. Miranda Bailey didn't lift her deathly gaze and the words began to spill from Izzie's mouth. "Well, he had a John Winchester listed and I called to leave him a message, and he had a number for his son, Dean, listed, so I called the son and he said he was in Seattle with Mr. Harrington, so I'm trying to find his medical records to see if he is one of the two boys who came in with the car accident."

She sat still, waiting for Bailey to say something, anything, when a voice got back on the line. Her eyes widened at the information, before she stuttered out a reply and placed the phone back in its rocker.

"What was that about?" Bailey intoned, curiosity creeping in.

Izzie couldn't put it into words, moving her mouth up and down before finally saying, "Dean Winchester is dead."

"And?" Bailey drawled, getting close to angry again.

"And!" Izzie flapped her arms around, trying to make a point. "Dean Winchester is in OR1 now, where Dr. Burke is trying to save him."

"How exactly do you know that?"

The blond intern pointed at her screen, where a digital picture of Dean Winchester (from his driver's license) was downloading. "I saw his face when I collected his things. That is the face I saw in the OR, younger, but the same face."

Bailey stilled.

"I want you to double check his medical file, get a copy faxed over here, and any records on this John Winchester and any other family members," she barked at her intern, who nodded, picking up the phone and ready to dial Lawernece General a third time in the last hour.

Something wrong was going on here, and Miranda Bailey wanted to know. Now.


End file.
